Aliens: Leviathan Chapter 1
by Hudson2014
Summary: First part of Chapter 1


**Aliens: Leviathan**

 **Chapter One**

1

Earth

New San Francisco

2189

The Weyland Yutani building was a menacing monolith of black glass that dominated the New San Francisco skyline. On the thirty seventh floor, Head of Security Richard Sixsmith paced the waiting room floor nervously. He carried the weight of a condemned man, like a seventeenth century criminal awaiting his turn on the gallows. Unlike his seventeenth century counterpart however, there was no angry mob baying for blood, only an empty waiting room. The hooded executioner had been replaced with a young female assistant sat behind a desk. The gallows instead were a set of double doors that led through to the conference room, where his fate was about to be decided.

Sixsmith's anxiety was palpable as he fidgeted with his tie and drank greedily from what must have been his fifth or sixth glass of water. The assistant paid no attention to his obvious distress, her eyes were firmly fixed on the screen in front of her as she typed away. It didn't surprise him, her obvious ignorance was nothing personal. Androids were built for function, not for taking an interest in the emotional turmoil of the humans around them. The employment of Androids had become commonplace in most businesses around the world. Though expensive in the beginning, they more than made up for it in the long run, as Androids never call in sick, are never late, don't suffer bereavement, and the days work is always guaranteed to be done, flawlessly. Personally, Sixsmith had always found Androids to be somewhat unsettling. He didn't like the idea of a machine wearing a human face, and that's exactly what 'she' was. To the outsider, she was a pretty, twenty something brunette, but Sixsmith knew the truth. Behind the bright blue eyes, porcelain skin and dark hair pulled back into a ponytail was a tangle of wiring, processors and circulatory fluid. She was no more human than the console at which she worked. The Security Chief walked over to the window, trying his best to calm his nerves, and expel the sick feeling that lurked somewhere in the depths of his stomach. As he looked out onto the city as it slowly came to life in the morning sun he thought of his wife Rosie. He remembered the look on her face as he had left for work that morning. He thought of how he had spent most of the evening and all night telling her that everything was going to be okay. But he knew his wife, and more importantly she knew him. Rosie knew whenever her husband was lying, no matter how noble his intentions may have been.

"They're ready for you sir." The assistant said with a cold detachment that did nothing to ease his anxiety. Sixsmith nodded and straightened his suit, suddenly aware that his tie had begun to feel more like a noose. His fate was out of his hands, and despite the inner voice urging him to run away, he made his way with resignation to the conference room.

2

The security footage took almost ten minutes to run it's course. At the head of the table, Weyland Yutani Director Craven waved his hand over a keypad in front of him. The hologram above the centre of the table abruptly flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness for a few moments. Sixsmith was glad of the brief respite, then overhead strip lights blinked to life, chasing the shadows to the edges of the room. Sixsmith hadn't realised just how serious the situation was until he had been introduced to the other two men sat at the table. To his right, General Dean Cross of the Colonial Marines chewed on a cigar. Smoke drifted around his face, a face cris-crossed with scars, one particularly nasty one ran across his left brow, forking as it clawed it's way down his cheek to the top of his lip. In the dim light, the General's curled lip seemed more like a snarl. He stared at Sixsmith with the intensity of a man who looked upon an annoying insect, waiting for the right moment to stomp on it. Cross could have had the scars removed, either with laser surgery of grafts, but Sixsmith knew the type, having served in the Colonial Marines himself for two years. Those scars were hard earned, as valuable to Cross as the dozen commendations sewn above the left breast pocket of his dress uniform. Despite the General's menacing appearance and obvious contempt, he didn't intimidate Sixsmith anywhere near as much as the man to his left did. David Yii sat relaxed in his chair, seemingly deep in his own thoughts. He wasn't particularly imposing, nor did he have an aggressive manner. It was who he was, and who he represented that scared the shit out of the Security Chief. Yii was an executive of the Interstellar Commerce Commision, the true heavyweights of the explored Universe. Nothing happened without I.C.C approval, and men like Yii made all of the decisions. Yii was the kind of man who could remove planetary governments, or shut down huge corporations with the simple use of a signature. His cache of power was above and beyond both Cross and Craven combined. Sixsmith felt beads of sweat begin to congregate on his forehead. Cross drew deep from his cigar, then blew a long stream of purple grey smoke.

"Do we know exactly what was stolen from our files?" He asked. Craven shook his head, and shot a glance at Sixsmith, who struggled to form some kind of explanation in his head. He failed to pull any of the right words from the maelstrom in his mind, let alone string them into any kind of coherence.

"What I want to know." Yii began. "Is how a technician was able to not only download whatever it was, but scramble your systems to the point where they are incomprehensible, and leave the most secure building on the planet completely unmolested?"

"Karen has… had been," Sixsmith stumbled through the mud of his own words. "An employee of ours for almost six years. She was the lead technician. Her job is to oversee our systems update every four months."

"You put one person in charge of updating your systems?" That from Cross, with agitated disbelief.

"It's standard procedure." Sixsmith replied, looking to Craven for support. The Director ran one hand through his thick, but immaculately kept beard and nodded.

"It's true. It's been Company policy for over a decade. It reduces the chances of espionage."

"In theory." Yii scoffed. Sixsmith felt his anger suddenly rise for a moment, he allowed it to subside before he spoke.

"It's obvious that Karen was a plant. It's no secret that the Company has enemies. Given the nature of what she did, and how she did it, I would assume that somebody paid an awful lot of money for her endeavours to succeed."

"It still doesn't explain why you left her alone in the room for almost a minute Richard." Yii said. He was referring to what they had just witnessed on the security footage. Sixsmith had been overseeing Karen as she went about her work, but at one point had rushed out of the room. In the time before returning, she had slipped a disk into her console and extracted whatever she had needed, before making her exit from the room herself as the whole system crashed.

"We had a breach in security. You've heard about the protests going on outside the building, animal cruelty or some other such bullshit. Rioters tried to storm the building, I had to respond."

"Isn't that why you employ security personnel?" Cross asked, stubbing his cigar out into a black glass ashtray. Sixsmith gave him a look of his own disbelief.

"At any given time, I have fifteen personnel at my disposal. We're not a military force General. My people are trained to deal with internal security, not riots." Craven waved his hand.

"This is getting us nowhere. We need to know exactly what was taken, why and by whom."

"My people are working on it sir." Sixsmith added. Yii laughed, and rested back into his chair.

"It still doesn't explain why you left the woman unattended, surely your internal security protocols would demand that you remain with her at all times."

"The circumstances had changed, I made a judgement call." Sixsmith replied blankly.

"It all sounds a little too convenient to me." Yii said softly. Cross nodded in agreement. Sixsmith found himself standing, his fists on the table, his whole body shaking.

"I had nothing to do with this!" Craven raised his hand, urging the Security Chief to sit back down.

"Richard, relax, nobody is questioning your loyalty." Craven said, leaning forwards onto the table.

"I am." Said an unseen voice. A look of grey confusion spread across Sixsmith's face, his eyes searched the dark recesses of the room over Craven's shoulder.

"Who said that?" He demanded with a voice devoid of any confidence. For a few moments there was no reply, Sixsmith almost strained, trying to make out any shapes at the back of the room. Then, somewhere in the shadows to the left, a lighter flame burst to life. Sixsmith watched with an amalgamation of fear and terrible wonder as whoever it was lit a cigarette. The orange embers floated amidst the shadows as whomever it was got to their feet.

"What's going on?" He asked, almost a whimper. Icy fingers caressed the base of his spine. He looked to Craven, but the Director simply stared at him, and for a moment Sixsmith would have sworn that he was afraid to speak. Cross pulled another cigar from his right breast pocket, as whoever it was stepped closer to the table, remaining in the shadows.

"This is…" Yii began.

"Dowd." The stranger interrupted. The tip of his cigarette glowed in the gloom as he took another drag. Yii crossed his hands, and regarded the Security Chief, who had suddenly gone pale, sweat slicked his forehead, and made his shirt cling to the small of his back.

"Mr Dowd is a specialist, of sorts." Yii continued, resting his elbows on the table. Sixsmith saw Dowd's shape make it's way around the table, never stepping into the light, but as he got closer he could just about make out his shape. The man was tall, not gangly, and seemingly well built.

"What is loyalty?" Dowd asked, his voice filled to the brim with confidence, self assurance. Sixsmith didn't answer, he'd been thrown off course as the world took a turn to the surreal.

"It's a fair question I think." Dowd continued, continuing to make his lap of the room, passing behind the General who was busily lighting his cigar.

"Tell me Richard, are you familiar with the story of Job?" Dowd asked. Sixsmith shook his head.

"Can't say that I am."

" Quite a harrowing story really, full of betrayal and brutal cruelty, however at it's core it does teach us something fundamental about loyalty. Back in the twentieth century, there was a writer by the name of Stephen King. He told the story of Job in the style of a joke… I forget the story, there's a storm, and a town meeting." Dowd circled behind Sixsmith. The Security Chief tried to turn, but still couldn't make him out amongst the shadows.

"Anyway, Job was a devout believer in God, and one day God decided to test his loyalty. He subjected Job to all manners of plagues and punishments, and still Job remained loyal to his faith. He killed his livestock, destroyed his crops, killed his family, destroyed his home, and Job was still loyal. But I don't have to tell you that every man has his breaking points, and after a while Job's resolve crumbled and he fell to his knees, remonstrating with the sky. WHY GOD?! He cried, WHY ME?" Sixsmith felt a swift rush of movement behind him, but before he could turn something jabbed him at the base of his skull. The effects were instantaneous, his whole body went numb and he slumped in his chair, unable to move, unable to speak. He was however, though he felt his consciousness fading, that Dowd was making his way back to the head of the table.

"WHY GOD! He cried. And for a while, God didn't answer Job. But then, thundered rumbled in the sky, lightning flashed, and a voice boomed in the heavens…" At that moment, Sixsmith saw a pair of hands rest on the table beside Craven, and before he slipped away into slumber he saw Dowd as the light fell on his face, the bright white smile, mad blue eyes, but worst of all, the burn scar that covered nearly half of his face. Dowd's smile widened,

"And God said, 'I guess there's just something about you that pisses me off.'"


End file.
